


Missing

by SunnyPrince



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Fake AH Crew, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-20
Updated: 2016-06-20
Packaged: 2018-07-16 06:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7255933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunnyPrince/pseuds/SunnyPrince
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the chaos of a robbery, it's easy for them to lose track of one another. They always meet up at their safe house. Always.</p><p>Almost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Missing

They fucked up.

All four of them had panicked. Michael crashed his getaway car and Lindsay lost sight of him when he hopped out of it and ran. She wanted to go after him, but Gavin had insisted. "Don't," he had said, "Michael can handle himself."

They all knew where the safehouse was, just outside of the city. They'd meet up there.

Gavin knew he was right. Michael could handle himself. Of course he could.

Lindsay, Meg, and Gavin had piled into one car that they'd jacked from a man who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Meg hit the gas and Gavin and Lindsay leaned out the windows, shooting at the cops that had started chasing them.

They thought they'd drawn their attention enough that Michael could get away and find a different car to make his way to their safehouse.

They did manage to ditch the cops, arriving at the safehouse with barely a scratch on any of them.

Except Michael.

They'd all expected that Michael would be there waiting for them. Waiting to chew them out when they got there, waiting to tell them what they'd done wrong. Waiting to count the cash they'd hauled out of the bank they'd held up.

He wasn't.

The safehouse was absolutely silent.

After the first few hours, Meg locked herself in their bedroom, unwilling to let any of the others see just how upset she was about the whole ordeal.

"It was chaotic there," Lindsay said to Gavin, her tone hushed and gentle. "I'm sure he made it. It's Michael. Of course he made it."

Gavin's confidence had been lost.

He didn't even want to count the money they'd stolen.

"I'm sure he made it," Gavin repeated, sounding unsure of himself.

Michael had to have made it.

He was _Michael_.

A day passed, and suddenly Lindsay wasn't so sure either. Meg was still holed up in their bedroom. Gavin hadn't slept - he'd spent the night staring out the window, waiting to see Michael pull up on a stolen bicycle.

He'd pulled their sofa over to the window, so Lindsay could lay in his lap while he stared at the street outside.

At this stage, Gavin was running on leftover adrenaline and an entire pot of coffee.

When Lindsay woke up, she sat with him and they both stared out the window.

"He's okay, right?" She looked at Gavin. He didn't look away from the road.

She tried to judge how sincere he was when he whispered, "of course he is."

He didn't seem quite as sincere as he had been just the day before. She just wanted Michael to come _home_ to them. She was starting to wonder if he ever would.

Later on in the day, Meg came out of their bedroom and sat down at the kitchen table. She considered getting up to make herself something to eat, but Gavin beat her to it.

They ate a simple dinner. All three of them were silent, and none of them _really_ wanted to eat. There were frequent glances to the front door, all three hoping, _praying_ that Michael would walk in.

He still didn't.

Gavin, Meg, and Lindsay remained silent throughout the evening. None of them really _did_ anything. They all sat at the front window for a while. Lindsay let herself cry, and Gavin and Meg both held her, stroking her hair and whispering that it was okay.

It wasn't.

It wasn't okay at all.

Michael, arguably the best of the three of them at dealing with this sort of thing, was gone. He hadn't come home. They didn't know where he went.

He hadn't even called them.

The three that remained were exhausted by late evening, despite not having done much of anything throughout the day. They slept together on the couch, curled around one another and holding hands.

They didn't want to wake up until Michael walked through the front door and chastised them for being so upset.

Gavin woke up first, in the wee hours of the morning, and for a moment he forgot that Michael was missing. When he remembered, he was angry. He was angry that Michael had split up from the group, and he was angry that Michael hadn't given them anything to tell them that he was okay.

He untangled himself from Meg and Lindsay and grabbed his sunglasses, tucking them into his shirt pocket. Sure, he'd been wearing the same clothes for two days, but he didn't care much.

He was going to look for Michael.

It didn't matter that it was four in the morning, it didn't matter that he couldn't even begin to guess where Michael would go.

He would find his boyfriend.

The fact of the matter, however, was that he didn't have to look far.

Gavin opened the door just as Michael was about to stick his key into the lock, and Michael looked up at him with just the smallest amount of fear in his eyes.

"Michael," he said, feeling out of breath just at the sight of him. "Michael, you came home."

Michael opened his mouth to speak, but Gavin wrapped his arms around his waist before he could, prompting a grunt and a bit of squirming.

"Let go," he said, voice strained. "I got shot. Please let go."

Gavin didn't want to let Michael go ever again, but he did. If Michael was complaining that something hurt, it really did hurt. Gavin knew Michael as the member of their little crew with the highest pain tolerance, so he knew it'd be bad.

He took Michael's hand, dragging him into the house and slamming the door behind him. He left Michael in the front hallway for a moment to rush into the living room, waking both Meg and Lindsay.

"Michael's home," he said, and both women perked up right away. "He's hurt."

Meg and Lindsay jumped off the couch, rushing into the hallway and barely restraining themselves from grabbing onto Michael and never letting go.

Meg took Michael's hand and pulled him towards the bathroom, unzipping his jacket when they all got there and dropping it to the floor.

There was so much blood.

"You said _hurt_ ," Lindsay said, glancing over at Gavin. "I didn't think you meant _almost dead_."

Michael's shirt was soaked, a hole in the back of it revealing just where he'd been hit. He was lucky that the cop who shot him had terrible aim. The bullet seemed to have missed everything important. It just caused a lot of bleeding.

Gavin tore Michael's shirt off him, helping him into the bathtub so they could clean him up.

"This'll hurt," Meg said, grabbing a bottle of vodka from beneath the sink.

"Can I take a drink of it first?" Michael held his hand out for it even as he asked, and Meg nodded, letting him take the bottle from her hands. He took a big gulp, then handed it back to her.

The sound he made when she poured it on the wound was loud enough that it could've woken the neighbors, if they'd had any. He tried his best to grit his teeth and bear it, but it _stung_. It felt like fire radiated out from the hole in his side, sending ripples of pain all the way to his fingertips.

He nearly hit the floor, but Gavin was there, in front of him, holding him up. Lindsay's hands were on Michael's back and Gavin's hands were tangled into his hair, trying to comfort him. Trying to stop him from screaming again when Meg reached for the tweezers.

The pain Michael was in was enough to make Gavin tear up.

"I'm sorry, baby," Meg whispered, jamming the tweezers into the hole in Michael's side without giving him the chance to stop her. Searching for the bullet that may or may not be in there.

Michael wasn't exactly in a position to make words.

It felt like an eternity before Meg tugged the bullet out and let it drop to the bathroom floor. Lindsay reached out with a cloth, putting pressure on the wound, while Gavin and Meg switched places. Michael's head was nestled firmly against Meg's stomach and she stroked his hair while Gavin threaded a needle.

"I'm going to stitch that up for you, okay, boy? It'll hurt, I know it will, but..."

"Just do it," Michael choked out. "Please."

Gavin nodded, stepping forward and poking the needle through Michael's skin, trying his best to do it quickly without messing it up. He wanted to make it as painless as possible.

When he was finished, he cut the thread off carefully, ensuring that the stitches wouldn't slip out, and Lindsay pressed a bandage firmly over the spot while Meg helped her tape it into place.

"It's done, Michael," Gavin whispered, running his fingers through Michael's hair. There were more questions than he had time to ask swirling through his mind, and he was sure the others had questions, too -- but that had to come later.

Michael was home.

Their Michael came home to them, and they all needed him to know that they loved him and needed him to _never_ do that again.

Meg took one of Michael's hands and Lindsay took the other, guiding him out of the bathtub and towards their bedroom. Gavin knew someone would need to clean the blood up off the porcelain tiles later, but it didn't matter at that moment.

Dried blood would be easier to clean, anyway.

He followed them to the bedroom and helped get Michael into bed. Lindsay got in on one side of him, and Meg got in on the other. Gavin inched his way into bed next to Lindsay, draping his arm over both Lindsay and Michael.

"Michael," Meg said, reaching up to stroke his face, pulling him in for a quick kiss. "If you ever do that again, I'll kill you myself."

"No guarantees."

**Author's Note:**

> [on Tumblr](http://princeofsunsets.tumblr.com/post/146218032334/missing-on-ao3-fahc-mavinseg-for-the-mavinseg)


End file.
